


Breakfast in Bed

by pmastamonkmonk



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here he spends all morning making breakfast and Spock gets all logistical on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast in Bed

**Author's Note:**

> For the [K/S Valentine Calendar 2011](http://community.livejournal.com/ksvalentine/) _Kirk brings Spock breakfast in bed on St. Valentine's day. Spock finds it both impractical and illogical_

Spock allowed his eyes to flutter open, taking quick status of his facilities and deeming them all satisfactory. Without thought, his arm shifted outwards, expecting to find warm flesh and surprised to only find cold sheets. Turning his gaze, he discovered the side of his bed usually taken up by Jim Kirk to be empty, and, if the temperature was to be trusted, apparently had been so for quite some time.

Sitting up, he permitted a frown to tug on his lips. Jim had been with him when he had fallen asleep the night before, curled up into his side and puffing air onto his neck, and it was unheard of for the man to wake up before him, let alone do so without enough noise to rouse an army. He was just about to throw his legs over the side of the bed and begin his search for the other man when the door to their quarters opened with a soft whoosh.

Jim frowned at him, “You weren’t supposed to be awake yet,”

Spock took in his lover’s appearance. Dressed in low slung pajama pants and a faded t-shirt stolen from McCoy’s quarters during their academy days, he carried a tray laden with plates and glasses filled with breakfast foods, one such glass holding a single rose. “Neither,” he countered carefully, “were you,”

Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Jim approached, balancing the tray in one hand and pushing Spock back against the pillows by his chest with the other. Spock let himself be pushed down, eyeing his lover carefully as he did so. Unceremoniously, Jim placed the tray over the Vulcan’s lap, gesturing at him widely. “Well, surprise is ruined, but Happy Valentine’s Day, anyway,”

Spock felt the delicate curve of his eyebrow rise as he took in the spread before him. A plate sporting what appeared to be fruit crepes artfully decorated with syrup and powdered sugar, a bowl filled to the brim with cut up fruits in various colors, an apple muffin –a variety he had found himself quite taken with in recent weeks – along with a croissant and an array of spreads for the pastry, glasses of orange juice and water, and, of course, another with the rose he had seen from across the room. Cataloging that it was actually an impressively diverse choice of food, he turned his gaze to Jim in question. “Could this not have waited until we were in the mess hall?”

Jim laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his obviously confused lover’s lips. “Nope,” he pulled back, eyes half mast as he stared at Spock, roaming the other man’s face. If Spock wasn’t Vulcan, he’d admit to feeling a little self-conscious, knowing his hair must be in disarray from sleep and that he had yet to wash his face or shave, but he was so he didn’t. “I convinced the kitchen staff to let me in early so I didn’t have to use the replicators. Time was sort of limited,”

“May I inquire as to why?”

“Never had breakfast in bed before?”

Spock’s brow creased. “Why would anyone eat in their bed? The probability of a mess is sufficiently raised when you take into consideration no level plane to hold the food upright, not to-“ Jim cut him off with a kiss.

“Logic,” he countered softly, “has nothing to do with it,” another smile. “It’s Valentine’s Day, let me dote,”

“I fail to see what the day has to do with you ‘doting’, as you say, much less bringing me my breakfast, which I am quite capable of fetching on my own,” he paused. “Replicated or not,” he didn’t want Jim to think he didn’t acknowledge that he had cooked, an idea that made his side bubble with warmth.

Jim rolled his eyes, taking a piece of fruit into his hands and practically forcing it into Spock’s mouth. “I spend all morning making you breakfast and trying to get back before you wake up to surprise you and you get all logistical on me,” he mused. “Suppose I didn’t expect any less,”

Chewing around the strawberry Jim had given him, Spock allowed an unamused tilt to his lips as the other man continued to grin and force fruit into his mouth. He raised his hand to stop the efforts only to have a fork thrust into it.

“Eat your breakfast,” Jim ordered. “I don’t care how impractical or cliché it is, I’m expressing my affection for you in a gesture of care and thought and you aren’t spoiling that for me, especially on Valentine’s Day,”

Resisting the urge to once again question what the day had to do with it, Spock stared at Jim’s hopeful smile before leaning forward for a kiss. “Thank you, Ashayam,” he replied simply, “your efforts are appreciated and accepted,”

Letting fingers trail into Spock’s mussed hair to pull him back in for another kiss, he hummed in approval. “Damn right they are,” once more. “Now finish eating so I can get back in bed with you and celebrate some more.”

Able to feel the pulse of lazy arousal coming from Jim, Spock allowed a slight quirk to his lips, beginning to eat his highly illogical breakfast and looking forward to dessert.


End file.
